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"When you say that the Honer'ble J. Percival Bickford has stolen " "Well, promoted gold-mines, then! It's only more words to say the same thing. And he's back here spendin' his loose change for daily doses of hair-oil talk fetched to him by the beggin' old suckers of this place."
"Good morning, John," said our young hero pleasantly. "Good morning, heathen," said Mr. Bickford. "We thought we'd come round and make you a mornin' call. Is your family well?" The Chinaman was reassured by the friendly tone of his visitors, and ventured to step in. He at once saw that the food which he had prepared for himself had disappeared.
He would have thought Frank Miles a singular sort of a boy if he had liked Abner Holden. "Have any of the boys that have been here liked Mr. Holden?" he asked. "I can't say as they have," said Mrs. Bickford, frankly; "and somehow they don't seem to stay long." "Why didn't they like him?" "Sh!" said the housekeeper, warningly. Herbert looked round and saw his employer entering the room.
Albert was one that held up his head, and looked as if he meant to own the town, an' he had a good word for everybody. I don't know what the years might have brought." There was a long pause. Mrs. Bickford leaned over to pick up a heavy-headed Guelder-rose that had dropped on the floor.
Bickford and Joe were returning from a walk, when, as they approached the camp-fire, they heard a voice that sounded familiar, and caught these words: "I'm from Pike County, Missouri, gentlemen. They call me the Rip-tail Roarer. I can whip my weight in wildcats." "By gosh!" exclaimed Joshua, "if it ain't that skunk from Pike. I mean to tackle him."
You'll have to run away, my good man! We're very busy up here, and have no time to subscribe to any papers." Mr. Bickford evidently believed that this was one of the daily "touches" to which he had become accustomed.
It may be remarked that Mr. Bickford availed himself of our young hero's invitation, and during the next twenty-four hours stowed away enough provisions to last an ordinary man for half a week. Four days later Joe and his Yankee friend, mounted on mustangs, were riding through a canon a hundred miles from San Francisco.
Bickford, taking one eye from the cheering multitude. The dog "clumped" down reluctantly. "We might just as well get to an understandin'," said the Cap'n, not yet placated. "I ain't used to a dog underfoot, I don't like a dog, and I won't associate with a dog. Next thing I know I'll be makin' a misstep onto him, and he'll have a hunk out of me."
You'll have a better time with a young fellow like Archie than you would with an old fogy like me, anyhow. Here, we'll be left!" He made for the ferry slips with the anxious Bickford. Thus did the wily Mr. Mitchell justify his headship.
"Oh, I see," said Joshua, nodding; "kinder take 'em in." "Just so, Mr. Bickford." "Well, there is something in that." "Then I shall find out who my true friends are." "Just so." It is not my purpose to describe Mr. Bickford's arrival in Pumpkin Hollow, resplendent in his new suit. Joshua wouldn't have changed places with the President of the United States on that day.
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